American Heroes Series - 03 - Purgatory (4 page)

CHAPTER TWO

“S A-1, do you copy?” Nash’s
radio crackled over the air.

Eyes still on Elliot, Nash
engaged the microphone. “S A-1 go.”

“Sheriff, Mayor Torres has called
twice looking for you. He says you’re supposed to be at his office right now.”

Nash flipped his wrist over,
glancing at his watch, and hissed. “Copy that,” he muttered in to the mic.
“Tell him my ETA is less than ten.”

He looked up from his watch,
right into Elliot’s sky blue eyes.  He smiled weakly. “Sorry,” he said quietly.
“I have to go.”

Elliot waved him off. “Of
course,” she said as she began to lead the way out of the bedroom. “It was
really nice to have met you. I’ll have Alec put all of the left-over furniture
into one room so you can come and pick it up the next time you’re around.”

Nash politely let her take the
lead down the stairs. “I’ll get it out by tomorrow, I promise,” he said. “I’m
sure you don’t want my old junk cluttering up the house.”

“It’s not a problem,” Elliot
insisted as they descended the stairs.  She turned to look at him as they hit
the bottom landing. “But you really will have to come back and tell us about
the other residents of this house. The ghostly ones, I mean.”

He grinned at her as they headed
for the front door. “Nothing much to tell, really,” he said casually. “All of
the old houses around here have stories about them, only this one happens to be
a little more vivid than the others. My ancestor, Louis-Michel, is said to have
buried a fortune in pirate booty somewhere on the grounds. I’m sure you noticed
the big fence and gate around the place when you pulled up.”

They were nearing the front
door.  Elliot slowed down because he was. “I saw it,” she confirmed. “It’s all
covered with vines and moss.”

“That fence has been around the
property like that since the late 1890’s,” he said, coming to a halt by the
front door, “mostly to keep out people who heard the legend of the pirate’s
gold and come around trying to dig up the yard.  My Mamaw kept great big guard
dogs to keep people away and during the time that the house was vacant, I had
private security patrol it. This place is a magnet for treasure hunters.”

Elliot’s eyebrows rose. “Are you
serious?” Now she was just the least bit perturbed, her gaze finding the
big-haired real estate agent still on her phone in the front driveway. “No one
ever bothered to tell me that, either.”

Nash could see who she was
looking at. “She probably should have, although I don’t think legends are part
of the real estate disclosure law.”

Elliot could feel her frustration
and anger rise. “And what about the ghost? Do we have to worry about that,
too?”

He could see she was riled and he
truthfully didn’t blame her.

“No,” he shook his head, his
manner calm, quiet and soothing. “The ghost is said to be that of Miss Sophie
herself, looking for Louis-Michel to return from sailing the Caribbean. She
wanders the grounds on moonlit nights, looking for her lost love.”

“Have you ever seen her?”

He nodded slowly. “I have.”

“Swear on your badge?”

He snickered. “I swear on my
badge,” he held up three fingers on his right hand. “Scout’s honor. You know,
it’s really a romantic tale if you stop to think about it.”

Elliot didn’t have the patience
for romance at the moment. She was struggling not to become furious with Louise
for not disclosing everything she knew about the property. A rundown derelict
house was one thing, but legends and ghosts were quite another. But she caught
a glimpse of Nash smiling at her and she instinctively softened. It was hard to
maintain an angry stance with such a handsome face staring her down. She forced
a smile at him and extended her hand.

“Well,” she said, somewhat
resolutely. “It was really a pleasure meeting you, Sheriff Aury.  I really
enjoyed the tour. Most of it, anyway.”

She wriggled her eyebrows
ironically and he laughed softly, taking her hand again, this time just holding
it. “You’re welcome,” he said. “I’ll come back and tell you more once you’ve
settled in.”

“You’re welcome anytime, whether
or not we’ve settled in,” she assured him. “This is your house, after all.
You’re always welcome here.”

He just stood there, holding her
hand and smiling at her.  There were a few moments of silence as they gazed at
one another, perhaps sensing more than just common courtesy and amiability.  
Elliot could feel her cheeks grow warm, sensations from his handsome face and
gentle demeanor overwhelming her. It was startling, thrilling and frightening,
and she gently pulled her hand away before he could hold it any longer.

“Thank you,” he said when the
action of removing her hand seemed to startle him from his starry-eyed stance.
“I’m glad the house is in good hands.”

Elliot just smiled at him and he
took it as his cue to leave, something he was finding great difficulty doing. 
He waved a casual hand to Alec, wandering around the porch and inspecting the
broken furniture, and the young man waved back. 

Elliot watched Nash climb into
his unmarked Crown Victoria sheriff’s unit and make his way out of the
driveway, spraying gravel as he went. She continued to watch him until he
disappeared from view and Louise, off the phone, approached. 

“Sorry I took so long,” Louise
apologized. “Did the sheriff show you the rest of the house?”

Elliot nodded, just the least bit
perturbed with the woman for a variety of reasons.

“He did,” she held out her hand.
“Now, if you will give me my key, I think we’ll be okay from this point on. 
The moving van should be here shortly and we’re eager to start unpacking.”

Louise had the keys in her jacket
pocket, handing them over. There were about fifteen of them, most of them very
old.

“Here you go,” she was already
heading back towards her car. “Those keys unlock the front door, the front
gate, and any other locks you’ll find around here. I haven’t even figured out
where all of them go. Sorry to run off like this, but I have something I need
to attend to. Ya’ll have my cell number if you need me.”

Elliot simply waved at the woman
as she jumped into her white Mercedes and sped off, fishtailing in the gravel
as the car gained traction. Elliot watched her go, turning to her son as the
young man walked up beside her, his gaze also on the fleeing Mercedes. When the
car disappeared from view, he glanced at his mother.

“So,” he said, turning to look at
the grayish beast behind them. “Are you happy now?  I told you this place was
creepy. What was the sheriff telling you about pirates?”

She put her hands on her hips and
squared off on him. “He told me that there’s a horde of pirates that haunt this
place and go after whining young men,” she pointed to their Jeep. “Go get the
stuff out of the car and bring it in. We might as well start doing what we can
to make this place livable.”

“Can I stay in a hotel tonight?”

“No,” she said flatly. “This is
home now. You’d better get used to it.”

Begrudgingly, Alec headed for the
Jeep to grab the items they had packed into it, mostly clothes and some foodstuffs.
Elliot watched him unhappily drag himself out to the car before turning back
for the house.

With Alec outside unloading the
Jeep, Elliot realized that she was alone in the house – no sheriff, no real
estate agent, and no son. She made her way to the central portion of the entry
hall where the winding staircase rose gracefully to the upper floor.

It truly was a spectacular house,
a diamond in the rough waiting to shine again. It was quiet and still at the
moment, the only light from the open front door.  She stood in the middle of
the hall, gazing around at the ancient beast she had purchased.

“Hi,” she whispered to the walls.
“My name is Elliot Catherine Jentry and I own you now. I promise that I am
going to do my very best to restore you to the way you were meant to be, and
you’re going to live again with people and parties and light and music. I… I
need you, just like you need me. I think we’ll make a good team.  I’ll take
care of you and you take care of me.  And if you’re really here, Miss Sophie, I
promise only to show you the greatest respect if you’ll just try not to scare
the crap of my family and me. That’s all I ask.”

The walls didn’t respond. She
didn’t expect them to, but she felt much better having said her piece. Maybe
the wise old walls were watching her, judging her, hopefully deeming her
acceptable as the next mistress of the house. As Alec neared the front door
with his arms full of bags, she rushed out to help him.

Together, they brought the first
semblance of life and love into an old house that hadn’t seen such things for
decades. 

The old heart began to beat
again.

***

“I remember now,” Mayor
Montgomery Le Blanc Torres pointed a fat finger at Nash. “Louise told me that
she finally sold Purgatory.  What a relief that must be for you, Nash. So you
met the family, did you?”

Nash was standing in the mayor’s office,
located in a rather nondescript one story building on Main Street near the
maintenance department and the local baseball diamond in the heart of the city
of Sorrento. 

“I met the owner and her son,”
Nash replied. “Elliot Jentry and her son, Alec.”

Monty sat heavily behind his big
desk, his round body squeezing into the big leather chair. “Louise told me that
she’s a writer.” He lifted his eyebrows knowingly. “You know; smutty novels
meant for women.  Louise says she’s been on the New York Times bestseller list
four times. She must be making a fortune.”

Nash lifted his shoulders. “I
don’t know. We didn’t discuss that. Mostly, I was making arrangements to pick
up the furniture that my family didn’t pick over after Mamaw’s death. Anything
that’s left there now isn’t worth a dime.”

“So…,” Monty sat forward on his
desk, his dark eyes glittering. “Is she pretty?”

“Who?”

“The famous Ms. Jentry.”

Nash was careful in his response.
“She’s a typical California woman I suppose, blond and beautiful,” he didn’t
want to discuss her, mostly because Monty was a hound and also because he
wasn’t quite sure how he would react if Monty showed the normal interest Monty
usually did with single women. He shifted the subject. “We’ve got a city
council meeting coming up Tuesday night and we need to make sure we are on the
same page about the development measure those hotheads from Baton Rouge have
put on the agenda.  If they get their way, they’re going to tear up everything
from John Le Blanc Boulevard all the way down Railroad Street and turn it into
a….”

Monty cut him off. “You worry too
much,” he told him. “Tell me more about Ms. Jentry. I’d love to see the
reaction of the church she tries to join down here when they find out what she
does for a living. They’ll run her out of town.”

Nash sighed faintly. “I don’t
know anything about that,” he said, growing irritated. “She seemed like a very
nice woman.”

“Is she married?”

Nash didn’t want to tell him what
he knew, knowing that Monty would probably drive to Purgatory right now if he
knew the woman was widowed. Nash began to feel either very defensive or very
protective of Elliot; he couldn’t figure out which.  All he knew was that he
didn’t want Monty getting his hands on the woman.

“She has two kids,” he finally
said. “Leave her alone, Monty. Don’t let the woman’s first impression of the
town be the mayor who wants to get into her pants.”

Monty’s eyebrows lifted. “She’s a
best-selling author and now a local celebrity. It’s my duty as the mayor to
welcome her.”

“You can welcome her, but don’t
act like you usually do. Don’t invite her out for dinner and drinks that don’t
include your wife.”

Nash was taking all of the fun
out of Monty’s good time.  Monty sat back in his chair and began to pout.

“Not all of us can be celibate
like you,” he countered, meaning it as a dig. “You and Julie divorced six years
ago and I don’t think I’ve seen you with a woman since. Have you gone frigid,
Nash? Maybe gay?”

Nash and Monty had grown up
together, their families both deeply entrenched in the area for generations.
Trouble was, he never really liked Monty a whole lot. The man was a political
brown-noser with a penchant for only watching out for himself. He’d been that
way even back in high school. Listening to the man, Nash was once again
reminded of why he didn’t like him.

“I’ve been busy getting an
appointment from the governor,” he jabbed back at the politically ambitious
man. “Some of us actually do our job, Monty.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Nash stood up, knowing that if he
kept going he would say things he shouldn’t.

“Nothing,” he grumbled. “Look, if
you don’t want to talk about the city council meeting, then I have things I
need to do.”